Interfector/Interfectrix

Summary: When Tara unearths a prophecy predicting the arrival of a god-like Destroyer, no one ever expects that it'll be the least of their problems. Meanwhile, a disturbance in time sends the crew of the TARDIS hurtling towards the source of the problem: Sunnydale, November 2001.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of its associated characters or concepts, even if I think being a Slayer might just be cool enough to be worth the lifestyle suckage. That honor goes to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and the rest of the lot. Nor do I own Doctor Who or any of its associated characters or concepts, much though I might wish I had my own TARDIS and the Doctor to fly it around for me and be awesome with me. When it comes to that, give it up for Steven Moffat and the BBC!

Feedback: Please? *puppy dog eyes* Flames, glorious praise, noncommittal noises—I'll take it, just don't leave me in suspense! Even if you only read it to mock it.

Pairings: Doctor/River, Amy/Rory, Anya/Xander, Willow/Tara, possible Buffy/Giles

I said POSSIBLE B/G, and I meant that. But no, it doesn't squick me. It was only ever Quentin who really brought up the father/daughter thing (besides Clingy!Buffy that one time with the cheque and Giles didn't seem too thrilled…) and seriously, are we trusting HIS judgement? But if you are squicked and I haven't miraculously converted you, just keep the faith and I'll warn you if a chapter's taking a turn for the openly shippy with them.
There may be more pairings later, but it depends on where the story takes me.

Spoilers: Probably for all the major plot points of Doctor Who thus far; spoilers up to Tabula Rasa for Buffy. See below.

Doctor Who: Set after NuWho Series 6/The Doctor, The Widow, and the Wardrobe. Don't know if it's AU or not 'cause hey, I can't see the future. Amy and Rory are the companions in this story. River may or may not show up.

Buffy: AU after Tabula Rasa. I think Season Six went pretty much okay, all things considered, but I'm NOT fond of how everyone went psycho after Giles left. I s'pose I could pick up after Grave, but that would mean Tara being dead, and I personally think Tara possessed an understated & underrated awesomeness all her own. I kinda want to see if I can evolve her into a true badass while still staying true to the character. So a shy, quiet badass. Hrm.

Anyway, enough babbling! On with the story!

Chapter One
In Which the Meaning of Family is Explored

A/N Sorry 'bout the angst-so-thick-you-could-cut-it-with-a-knife thing here. Or 'you're welcome', I suppose, if you like angst. I know people seem a bit OOC here, but to me, angsty and divided Scoobies absolutely define OOC. I couldn't just jump into this without giving Giles a proper reason to stay, so long tearful Tabula Rasa farewells it was. Must also apologise for the conspicuous absence of a certain madman with a box thus far. It really is a crossover, I swear! I'll shut up and let you read.

He'd said goodbye to them, now. Most of them, anyway. It went without saying that they wouldn't be at the airport to send him off. That would require a bit more of a communal effort then the splintered Scoobies were up to. He hadn't told the Council of his departure—they'd only make things worse, and he hadn't risked alerting them to his move by renting a flat in Bath. He'd probably stay at the estate, the first couple of days or so, then gradually pull up his more official roots in Sunnydale.

Tara hadn't stayed long—she'd had to start driving her things over to the dorms, now that she was moving out of the house. Dawn hadn't really stayed at all. The moment they had arrived at the house on Revello Drive, the teenager had charged up the stairs and locked herself in her room. Willow had tried to stay around, but after a few minutes of avoiding everyone's eyes she stammered out an excuse and followed Dawn's example, choosing the upstairs bathroom as her sanctuary. Anya was still embarrassed over the kiss (Anya! Embarrassed! Fancy that.) while Xander was still dazed by Willow's dishonesty. Both of them had embraced Giles—and both awkwardly, though for very different reasons—and left pretty early on. No one had seen Buffy since she/Joan had left the shop with Spike/Randy. Spike had had the decency to show up and give the gang the all-clear before vanishing to parts unknown. Possibly the same parts as Buffy—probably, Giles thought bitterly. Spike would do anything to get closer to the Slayer.

In retrospect, Tara really hadn't left that quickly after all.

Still, when Giles was left alone in a living room not his own, he had a feeling that he'd overstayed his welcome. He hesitated at the door to the bathroom, almost knocked. But no. Better Willow see the consequences of her actions. It hurt him to leave the young Wiccan to suffer on her own, but she had to understand that she was hurting people, unwittingly pushing them away from her. That could be hard to do if one of the people she was driving away came in and comforted her.

Giles continued down the hall and didn't hesitate for an instant to knock on Dawn's door.

"Go away!" she shouted

"Dawn," the Watcher began.

Something heavy hit the door from inside. "Just go! You wanna leave, leave! Just get out!"

"Dawn, please," Giles tried again.

"I. Don't. Want. To. HEAR IT!" Dawn shrieked, tearing the door open and looking up at her sister's Watcher through damp, bloodshot eyes. Her chest was heaving and her entire body was shaking as though she'd been hit by a freak blizzard in her room. Her face was red and blotchy and she was holding a hand to her chest, as though she'd pulled her wrist with the force of throwing open her door. A small stone bookend lay on the floor near the doorway.

Giles had given her that bookend two years ago for her birthday. Or at least he had in the monks' version of the memories.

"Dawnie," he said softly, resorting to a rare use of her nickname. Dawn's lower lip wobbled as her resolve faltered. "I'm sorry. I wish there was another way…"

That was plainly the wrong thing to say. "Yeah, right." Dawn's voice was lower now, each word sounding like she had ground it out with the last shreds of her self-control. "I'm sure you wish there was a way you could stick around and have to put up with this crap."

"That's not—"

"I. Don't. Care. Scoobies are for life. We're family. You don't wanna stick with us through the badness, fine. Don't. Just get out, Giles." She glared at him. "Just go home."

Dawn slammed the door in the Watcher's face. He stared at it, not really seeing it.

"But I am home," he murmured.

Dawn hugged a pillow to her chest, staring at the picture on top of her bureau. After Giles had taken Buffy to her vision quest in the desert, he'd treated the Summers girls out to a picnic in the local park. Just the three of them. Dawn's outstretched arm was just visible in the frame, holding the camera at arm's length to capture the moment. Buffy and Giles had both caught Dawn around the middle between them. Giles' spare arm was draped affectionately over the elder sibling's shoulders as he smiled quietly at the camera; Buffy's grin was a little more wicked, two fingers forming bunny-ears behind her unsuspecting Watcher's head.

Having Giles around—Dawn wasn't sure what it meant to Buffy, but to her it meant safety. Security. It meant having a dad again. Giles was everything Hank Summers had been—and more, she'd thought.

She'd been wrong. Giles was exactly like Dad. There when the going was good, gone in a moment when things got rough. She remembered when she'd found out about her past as the Key, how she'd burned her journals. She thought about burning the photo. She'd actually snatched up the frame before her thoughts caught up with her. Getting rid of the photo wouldn't fix anything.

Dawn smiled a little, looking at Buffy's photographed face. God, her big sis looked happy, completely at ease with her head resting on Giles' shoulder even as she pulled her juvenile little prank on the Englishman.

And Giles…Giles looked every bit as content.

Angrily, Dawn threw the picture into a drawer, slamming it shut. No, getting rid of it wouldn't fix anything, but neither would looking at it.

She didn't need to keep reminding herself of all she had lost.

Curling up on her bed, she stared at her backpack instead. She had a history paper due tomorrow. Screw it. Dr Bowman would live.

Right now, she needed cry time.

*sniffle* Poor Scoobies! I'm sorry for imagining and describing your agony in detail! *sob* It'll be worth it, I swear! You'll be much happier in the AU I made for you than you would be in the real Season 6, trust me! I love you guys! *cries*

…So, now that you're all quite sure I'm insane (I'm talking to you audience types now, by the by) tell me what you think? Otherwise, I'll think I'm even more insanerer for talking to two sets of non-existent people. Pretty soon I'll be unable to distinguish fact from fiction, fantasy from reality…you know the drill. So prove you exist! R&R!